


Walking on broken glass

by cellardoors_and_petrichor



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Anxiety, Awkwardness, Child Death, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, No Major Character Death, Reunions, Sick Character, Single Parents, not on screen and not Frances Laurens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 9,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellardoors_and_petrichor/pseuds/cellardoors_and_petrichor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years ago, John Laurens dropped out of school and left NYC to try to make things work with the mother of his child. Circumstances bring him back to the city and Alexander Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title based on ["Walking on Broken Glass"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y25stK5ymlA) by Annie Lennox. The lyrics are very fitting.

There’s nothing quite like central park. The oppressive heat of the city dims under the shade of the trees. It seems so quiet, as though it’s not even in New York City at all. The air feels fresher, and it’s a good place to take a break. Most of all, John loves the playground. It gives him a respite, the ability to relax without feeling guilty because his daughter loves it even more than he does.

John is glad to be back in the city. Though he often finds himself exhausted juggling single parenthood and work as an EMT, the city makes him feel alive – something his home in the English countryside with Martha had severely lacked.

As he’s unlocking the apartment, his neighbor Angelica Schuyler opens her door from across the hall. John is under no illusion that this is a coincidence. Her face seems to relax temporarily with a soft smile as she looks at a sleeping Frances. When she meets John’s eye, she’s back to her audacious self.

Before she can say much of anything, John tiredly says, “No.”

“John, you have to take care of yourself. Give me Frances for a night. Get out of the house. Meet someone. Even you need to take a break,” she counters earnestly. “It’s been three years, John. You’re allowed to move on.”

He pauses in thought. Angelica Schuyler is the most stubborn person he’s met since he dropped out of college. She won’t let this go and he reasons it would be nice to have a night to himself.

“Okay”, he replies softly.

Angelica lights up as she says, “Come over tomorrow night. Say 6?”

He replies with a nod. Once John gets inside his apartment, he lays down on the couch to rest his eyes for just a moment. He’s awoken an hour later by the sound of a stroller falling over. He rushes over to Frances and unbuckles her quickly, scooping her into a hug. He kisses her head as she whimpers a little.

“I’m so sorry, baby. Let me make some macaroni for dinner. Would you like that?” John asks, feeling guilty for falling asleep in the first place.

She nods as she rubs her eyes and John sets her in front of the TV before making dinner. As he sits eating a meal of macaroni and cheese, peas, and chicken nuggets, he realizes he doesn’t know the last time he had a real adult dinner. Or a beer. Angelica may be right after all.

Once Frances is put to bed, John crawls into his own and dreams of a life gone by.

-

At 5:59, John carries Frances to the door. She’s getting a bit old for this, but if John admits that, he may have an existential crisis about his daughter growing up. He finds Angelica already in her doorway with a fondly exasperated expression directed at a young man gesticulating wildly, despite holding a pile of papers and messenger bag.

Angelica puts her hands on his shoulders and makes eye contact with John as she says, “I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

The stranger turns around and John unconsciously holds onto his daughter tighter. The man’s expression flits from curious to surprised and a myriad of other emotions as he drops his pile of papers on the ground, standing in disbelief.

“John?” he asks softly.

Angelica assesses the situation carefully before saying, “John this is my dear friend ---”

“Alexander Hamilton,” he fills in for her. John looks at the man before him, so much the same yet so different. Hamilton has grown a little broader with longer hair, but his eyes shine the same. He's as gorgeous as ever.

“Hello, Alex,” John says, the first words he’s spoken to Alexander in five years. John gestures to the floor asking, “Do you need help?”

That pulls Alex from his reverie and he notices his previously well-organized papers strewn on the floor. “Fuck,” he swears.

“Hey! That’s a bad word, you have to put a quarter in the swear jar,” Frances says.

Alex looks up the floor, tilting his head. “Who’s this?”

“This is Frances, my daughter.”


	2. Chapter 2

“I’m sorry, what?” Alexander asks, clearly thinking he has misheard his long-lost best friend.

“This is Frances, my daughter,” John repeats slowly and a tad quizzically. He’s never seen Alex this unsure in his life.

“Oh,” is all Hamilton says. He turns his attention to the little girl, holding out his hand in greeting, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Frances repeats shyly giving him the shortest handshake in existence, barely a brush of hands, before burying her face in her father’s neck. John wants to laugh at the absurdity of shaking hands with a toddler but finds that best kept to himself. Has Hamilton ever met a child before?

An awkward silence descends and Laurens could swear the corridor got smaller, that all the air has been sucked through a vacuum. Angelica breaks it by asking Alex, “When’s the last time you ate?”

He finally breaks eye contact to smirk at Angelica, “Do you mean besides coffee and a granola bar?”

“Yes,” she replies unamused.

Alexander opens his mouth with a rejoinder on the tip of a tongue but falters under Angelica’s gaze. “I have no idea.”

John's heart is racing out of his chest. This is his opportunity to mend bridges. “Do you want to join me? I was just about to get some food down the road.”

Alex hesitates, doesn't meet his eye as he squeezes out, “Oh, I have to work on this case and --”

Angelica takes Frances from John’s arms and he can feel the separation anxiety already. Not hers, his own. “No you don’t, Alexander. Go eat with the man. You both could use a break. Now give me my favorite little girl.”

John gives his daughter a kiss and asks if she’ll be okay, despite knowing her answer. If she even hints at not being okay with it, he won’t hesitate to stay home.

“Of course I will be, Daddy!” Then, in a stage whisper, “Aunt Jelica always gives me extra cookies.”

Laurens makes the obligatory disapproving parent face, at which Angelica lets out a laugh. He gives Frances another kiss. “Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow sweetheart.”

Alexander and John make their way downstairs, Hamilton reticent and Laurens thoughtful. John’s at a loss for words and wrongly footed. He wants to scream at himself. This is his shot, if only to have Alex as a friend again, and he’s letting it slip away. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to think of what to say.

He’s thinking so hard that when Alex speaks, John is a little startled. “You have a kid.”

“Seems so,” he replies with a tired smirk. Toddlers are exhausting.

Alex, for once, appears dazed. Alexander Hamilton is always in control of his faculties, which makes John wonder what it means, for him to be reacting this way. “How do you have a kid?”

“Well, you see, when a man and a woman love each other very much -–” John starts saying, jokingly.

Hamilton’s face falls. “Oh. So that’s why you left?”

“It wasn’t love but I thought Martha and I could be friends, for her. I thought that would be enough.”

He may have never been in love with Martha, but they had become cordial by the time Frances was born. She never seemed to mind that their relationship wasn’t more, as bad as that sounds. The only love in their marriage was saved for Frances. John thinks Martha always knew his heart belonged to another, a bright eyed American boy with so much zeal that it's infectious, that makes you believe you could do anything.

“And now?” Alexander asks carefully.

“Now, there’s just me.” John leaves it at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ??? I don't know what I'm doing here. Please comment. I cherish them all. I am also 1000% more likely to write another chapter sooner if you do.


	3. Chapter 3

If someone had told Alexander only an hour earlier what he would be doing with his Saturday night, he would have laughed in their face and walked away. How could he have been expected to believe that he would be spending it in a mediocre Italian restaurant with the one that got away?

The hardest thing of all, in this situation, is that he’s keeping so many questions to himself, choking on the intense desire to know everything that has happened between then and now. After all, curiosity killed the cat and he’s one of the most curious of them all.

Alexander is displeased with John’s evasiveness in the face of his line of questioning. It was a fair enough question. How does someone as gay as John Laurens procreate through sex? Hamilton understands the allure of a woman’s body but if there were anyone in their group of friends who would have had a child before graduating college, it would have been Hamilton.

Is it selfish of him to feel like he deserves answers? It was devastating enough to find his roommate slash best friend never returned to school after summer vacation, never even left an explanation. The substantial check to cover John’s half of the rent felt like a slap in the face. He never deposited that check. He wasn’t planning on it anyway.

Maybe he can put it in a bank account for Frances.

Dear god, why is he thinking about Frances’s future? He’s not her father. A small voice in his head reminds him that she’s adorable and the daughter of John Laurens so it’s not a stretch to believe that she’s already important.

This may have been a mistake. He can do one of two things: cut off all ties to John, or work through the terrible mess of whatever their friendship has become. While the former is rather attractive, the fact that he is Angelica’s neighbor means that it is very likely that he will see John again.

Alex moves his hand to grab another breadstick, but finds the basket empty. John looks at him with a smile.

“You ate them all.”

John’s not surprised. Neither is Alex. It is entirely possible that Alex hasn’t eaten a meal in three days. Since John left, no one has been around to regularly feed and water him. Hamilton coughs and tries to find the most neutral ground.

“I like your haircut,” he says. Good fucking job, Alex. You haven’t seen the man in five years and you asked about his hair.

“Oh, thanks. Angelica did it for me,” Laurens replies, taking a rather indulgent gulp of wine.

“So what have you done since, you know when?” Alex asks. He shouldn’t have asked that. That’s too close to the elephant in the room.

“I’m an EMT. I never finished my degree and I got so busy that I never really had time for much else. And yourself?” John replies.

Hamilton wants to sigh in relief. He is enough of an egotistical bastard that talking about himself is a little too easy, “I went to law school. I worked in corporate law for a year until I realized that it was eating my soul. I turned to civil rights law. The pay isn’t as good but my soul isn’t dying so.”

Alex starts fiddling with his napkin. He just has so many things to say that he really needs the waiter to bring him that second glass of wine.

“You’re starting to get red in the face, Alexander. Just say what’s really on your mind,” John says with his hands laced together on the table.

Silence and half-truths were probably the better option.

“You’re so gay John, and I understand that sexuality is fluid but after all the women I’ve slept with, and consequently described in great detail, you swore you’d never have sex with a woman. Which brings me to my point, why did you have sex with a woman? Where is she and is she coming back? Or maybe Frances isn’t actually your child. Did you adopt some random baby while you were in England? And while we’re talking about England, why didn’t you tell me that you were leaving? I would have understood. We could have dealt with this together. When did you move back? Were you planning on telling me you moved back to New York?”

Alex is on a roll, not even addressing all of his questions, and his voice steadily grows louder to the extent that Laurens notices other people glancing at them. Alex continues louder, “Also, the way that you left that fucking check was such a dick move John. Did our relationship mean so little to you?!”

Alexander is breathing heavy while John looks stunned. Their waiter picks the most awkward moment to interrupt them.

“Er, would you like more breadsticks sir?” asks the teenage waiter who ducks to miss the empty basket Hamilton has been waving around since the beginning of his rant. John answers in lieu of Hamilton, whose heavy breathing intensifies.

John answers for the both of them, “That would be much appreciated.”

Alex notices the grimace as John places his hands on the tabletop, clearly bracing himself for what he plans to say next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive shout out to Rainah. She has made this fic 500% better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The latter half of this chapter has some French! All phrases in French have mouseover text, so if you hover over it you will find a translation.

John belatedly realizes that perhaps they should have had their reunion somewhere more private. They could have stayed at his apartment and ordered Chinese food. He could’ve had a whole bottle of wine to himself – though he doesn’t think there is enough alcohol in the world to make this situation any easier, public or no.

At first, it’s mildly amusing to watch Alex devour breadsticks in silence – though the parent in John would be remiss to not speak with him about his health habits. Hamilton never did know how to take care of himself. Frankly, John would have been more worried while he was gone if not for the fact that Hamilton’s such a survivor.

Eventually, the tense silence becomes too much to bear. Laurens can almost hear the cogs turning in his brain. When he asks Hamilton what is on his mind, the series of questions is a little overwhelming. It’s John’s fault really. He opened the floodgates. Though it may have been simpler to eat in tense silence and part ways, he knows it’s not what his heart really wants. If there was one things that he has learned from becoming a parent, it would be that time moves too quickly. Sometimes he wonders if maybe Alexander had taught him that first.

“Whoa,” John comments. He forgot how quickly Hamilton could talk when he put his mind to it. He braces himself on the table.

“Martha was. Martha was a mistake,” he says, because he can’t look Hamilton in the eye and tell him the truth -- that she reminded him so much of Alex that night. He becomes almost angry that Hamilton would insinuate that his daughter is not his own. “As for Frances, she's mine. You can see she has my mother’s eyes, my eyes. And damn you, Alexander. You don’t know what it was like. I was so goddamn scared, a 21-year-old gay kid whose one night stand ended in a shotgun wedding.” 

John reins himself back in and tries to make these words come out as sincerely as possible, “I’ve been back for three years. I didn’t know if you’d even want to see me. I don’t think I could have taken the rejection.”

Alexander sets down the breadstick basket gently. Despite being clearly frustrated, he says “I could wring your neck right now. Of course I want to see you. That’s one of the  _ only _ things I’ve wanted since you left.”

The two make eye contact, and it feels important, refined by age like fine wine.

The moment is ruined when they are interrupted by their waiter serving them food and John lets out a sigh, a tad resigned. He feels like he missed an opportunity. Over the course of the meal, the two reminisce about college. As they part ways for the evening John says, “Do you want to get coffee on Wednesday afternoon? Frances has a ballet class and there’s a nice café next door.”

Alex flashes a smile. “I never say no to coffee.”

~

Wednesday finds Hamilton taking a small nap on Laurens’s couch, at John’s insistence. That kid never gets enough sleep. At a knock on the door, Frances leaves her coloring to run and let the guest in. 

“No, no, sweetheart, don’t answer the door without a grown up,” John says as he stands up, spotting his daughter as she climbs up a stool to unlock the door.

At seeing their visitor, John’s eyes go wide. He completely forgot to mention that he could take Frances to her class himself.

“Uncle Laugh-yet!” Frances squeals.

Lafayette huffs a small laugh and picks up Frances. He tells her, “So close. [Bisous, mon petit chou](),” Frances and Lafayette kiss each other on the cheeks [à la français](), “You look marvelous, [ma petite ballerine](). I have a small [cadeau]().”

“A present?”

“Oui, a present.”

Frances opens the bag to pull out the gift. “Madeline. But I already have this book.”

Lafayette smiles at her. “Not yet in French, though. Non?”

Frances smiles and hugs Lafayette. “[Merci bien, je t’aime beaucoup!]()”

Whenever Lafayette comes over, John is reminded that he should take a French class, just to understand his daughter sometimes. At least Hamilton can also now understand her. Laurens worries his lip and fidgets.

Lafayette notices. “[Qu'est-ce que c'est](), Laurens? Why are you looking at me like that? I came here as I do every Wednesday to pick up my goddaughter. What's wrong?”

Hamilton joins the two men in the small hallway, rubbing his eyes. He says, “Every Wednesday? How long have you known?”

Lafayette smirks, glad to be able to see both of his friends in the same room again. “Ah, Hamilton. I have known for few years.”

Hamilton looks affronted. “And you didn’t tell me?”

Lafayette shrugs his shoulders. “[Il m'a dit]() that I was not to tell you.”

Lafayette and Hamilton talk rapidly in French, the former rather relaxed and the latter angry. Hamilton's so quick to anger.

Lafayette interrupts Hamilton at one point to include Laurens in the conversation again.

“I am already here, so I will escort [la princesse]() to her class and [vous pouvez rouler une pelle]()."

Hamilton flushes and John feels torn between wanting to know French and being glad he doesn’t. Lafayette takes Frances and leaves with an [au revoir](), and the two men are left alone -- in a quiet house with no children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment. I cherish them all. I am also 1000% more likely to write another chapter sooner if you do.
> 
> Translations  
> Bisous, mon petit chou: kisses, my little darling  
> à la français: like the French  
> ma petite ballerine: my little ballerina  
> cadeau: gift  
> Merci bien, je t’aime beaucoup: Thank you very much, I love you lots  
> Qu'est-ce que c'est?: What is it?  
> Il m'a dit: he told me  
> la princesse: the princess  
> vous pouvez rouler une pelle: you two can make out  
> au revoir: goodbye


	5. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really a part of a story, it's more of a flashback and only concerns Laurens and Lafayette.
> 
> This chapter also has French! All phrases in French have mouseover text, so if you hover over it you will find a translation. The translations are also in the end notes.

**Interlude: New York City, 2012**

John finds it interesting that a city with so many people can feel so empty. On one hand, the coldness is a nice facade in that it gives some semblance of privacy. On the other hand, it's sometimes overwhelming to be in a room and feel alone. The most frustrating thing of all is that he's actually great at making friends. The problem is that with his job and his infant, he doesn't have time to give those friendships the attention they deserve.

So, he doesn’t want to admit it, but John is lonely. He’s not speaking to his family, Martha left, and ever since he came back to the city, all of his free time has been devoted to Frances. His neighbor Angelica seems nice, but her friendship isn't yet the same intimacy as it was with Hamilton, Mulligan, or Lafayette.

Calling Hamilton is out of the question. He burnt those bridges years ago, and it’s too painful to think about.

Last thing he knew, Mulligan was working on the west coast.

That leaves Lafayette. As he’s putting Frances down for a nap, he takes his phone out. He opens his contacts and hovers over Lafayette's name. He may as well call, right? The choice is made for him when his thumb brushes the call button accidentally.

A playful French accented voice greets, “ _Hello?_ ”

John hesitates before asking, “Lafayette?”

“ _Oui, who is this?_ ”

“John Laurens,” he says tentatively.

A dramatic gasp, then, “ _[Je n'en crois pas mes oreilles](). I cannot believe it. How are you, [mon cher?]()_ ”

John smiles softly. “I’m doing alright. I was actually wondering if you were free today. I’m back in town for a bit and I wanted to see if you’d like to come over for a beer.”

“ _Sure! I’ve always got time for you,[mon ami](). [À bientôt]()._ ” 

Once Lafayette hangs up, John takes a sweeping glance of his apartment. “Okay,” he says out loud to himself, “I’ve got 30 minutes to clean up.” When he realizes how messy his apartment is, he swears.

30 min later...

“Salut!” Lafayette says with a grin before kissing each of John’s cheeks in greeting.

Maybe Lafayette’s smile is infectious or perhaps it’s seeing a familiar face, but either way John can’t help but grin in return, “Hey man, come in. I know it’s not much but -–”

“-- but it is home. It is quite nice. Oh, [tu m'as manqué]()!" he says before pulling Laurens back into a hug. “I have missed you, dear Laurens.”

He returns the hug gratefully. “And I you, Lafayette. Beer?”

Lafayette graciously takes the bottle and casually says, “So when do I get to meet your child?”

John sputters and chokes on his beer.

“Mon cher, I am not blind. There is a baby monitor right behind you.” He gestures behind Laurens.

John closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. How is he always so _tired_. “She’s asleep but she’ll probably be up soon anyway.”

As if on cue, John hears the whimpers on the baby monitor that lets him know that Frances is awake. He leaps up to get her before she starts wailing. As he walks back into the room, he shows his baby girl off to Lafayette. “This is Frances,” he says reverently, looking at her sweet nose and kissing her. Whenever he starts to get frustrated, he looks at her and it feels a little easier to manage.

He passes her to Lafayette. Frances grabs up with her small hand to grab his nose. Lafayette crinkles it and when he looks back up at his friend, he smirks. “Pity, she looks just like you.” They both laugh before Lafayette continues, “When do babies start speaking? I must teach her French. And buy her everything.”

That makes John a little nervous. Lafayette has too much money, and that's coming from someone who also grew up with too much money.

Lafayette surveys the apartment and raises a skeptical eyebrow, “So how long are you staying in New York City?”

John has to admit, this apartment does look pretty permanent. “Er… the foreseeable future?”

Lafayette claps his hand on John’s shoulder and beams. “That’s fantastique! Perhaps you, me, and Hamilton can –”

“No!” John interrupts. “No, Hamilton can’t know I’m back.”

Lafayette frowns, a furrow in his brow. In his confusion he asks, “But why? I’m sure he would love to see you. And would he not love to meet her as well?”

Laurens starts to panic. He must sound a little desperate when he says, “I can’t. Please don’t tell him.”

Lafayette shakes his head. “Tsk. I don’t like this, but when there are hearts on the line and children involved, I cannot interfere.”

“Thank you,” Laurens replies gratefully.

Lafayette nods his head. “Now, does she have a godfather yet or non?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment? It gives me the energy to keep writing.
> 
> Translations:  
> Je n'en crois pas mes oreilles: I can't believe my ears  
> mon cher: my dear  
> mon ami: my friend  
> à bientôt: see you soon  
> tu m'as manqué: I have missed you


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what I can't do? Write anything even tangential to smut. So, I'm sorry? Once we get back to the fluffy kid fic, I'll be in my zone again.

_ Hamilton flushes and John feels torn between wanting to know French and being glad he doesn’t. Lafayette takes Frances and leaves with an au revoir, and the two men are left alone -- in a quiet house with no children. _

-  


As soon as the door closes, John starts with, “Look, Alex, I --”

Hamilton holds up a hand to cut him off. “John, I say this as your best friend, but shut the hell up.”

The apartment feels so still as Laurens waits for what comes next. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Alex says before cradling John’s jaw between his hands. For someone as aggressive as Hamilton, it's surprising to find that the man knows how to kiss so sweetly. John’s mind stutters as his eyes slide shut, overwhelmed by sensation. He can feel how wet Alex’s lips are against his, the way they slip and slide, softened by spit and chapstick. The way his tongue eases its way into his mouth. John tastes the bitter coffee and the mint gum Hamilton chews to try to mask it. He can smell Alexander’s cologne and the same shampoo he’s evidently been using for years. Most of all, he's turned on by the small, pleased noises coming from Alexander’s throat. 

God, he can’t tell whether it’s been too long or if it’s just the intoxicating allure of Hamilton himself, but when Alex’s fingernails scratch at his back through the fabric of his shirt, it’s too much. Laurens pulls away. Alexander’s hot breath makes him shiver.

He wipes his mouth, taking a moment to breathe while his higher cognitive functioning restarts. When he thinks he fully grasps the gravity of the situation, he demands, “What was that?”

“That would be a kiss, John,” Hamilton sasses back.

“But  _ why _ did you kiss me?” Laurens asks, nonplussed.

Alexander looks hesitant for the first time, possibly in history, and fidgets with his hands, “I thought that, well, we’ve lost so much time already and maybe --”

“It’s not just about me anymore. I have to think about Frances too.”

Hamilton throws his hands out to the side as he shouts, “Jesus Christ, John. What do I have to do to convince you that  _ I fucking love you  _ ?”

“Oh.”

Hamilton deflates. “You have to meet me halfway, man. Call me when you’re ready,” Alex says as he grabs his coat to walk out the door.

John grabs onto his sleeve, only tight enough that should Hamilton want to break away from his hold, he still could. “No, don’t leave. It’s just -- I’ve been running for so long. I don’t know how to be a dad. What if I turn out like Henry? I don’t know how to protect her. How do you shield her from the world? I can’t -- she’s just so small, you know?”

Alex steps closer and wraps him into a hug, nuzzling into his neck. “I know, I know. It’s okay, John. We’ll figure it out together. And quite honestly, you could never be like Henry.”

John breathes in and out for a few moments, waiting for the anxiety to bleed out of his body. He takes in the warmth radiating from Hamilton until he’s almost pliant. Once he feels his heart steady, he runs one of his arms from Alex’s shoulder down to his hand, lacing their fingers together. With a pull, Laurens maneuvers them towards the couch. As he sits, his pulls Hamilton into his lap. Hamilton incidentally looks like the cat who got the cream. John runs his hands over the coarse material of Alex’s jeans down to the knees and then back up to the hips, entwining his fingers in the belt loops and tugging him close.

John smiles and whispers, “We’ve got 40 minutes until they get back. Let’s make the most of it, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment? I have no idea how I did here. Let me know what you think of the story. It gives me energy to keep writing more!


	7. Chapter 7

And so life continues, and Hamilton slowly works his way into their lives. A toothbrush here. A pair of shoes there. Sometimes he sleeps over. Sometimes he doesn’t. Everything seems to be going smoothly, which John should have realized meant that something would go wrong. Because of course it does.

When he gets the letter in the mail, he drops it like he’s been burnt.

“What the fuck?!” John screams, while simultaneously pulling out the requisite amount of money to place in the swear jar. It was worth it.

“Daddy…” Frances scolds him.

“Yeah I know baby, but I’m an adult so I’m allowed to say these things,” he responds, still looking at the letter as though it may attack any moment. He takes a deep breath and opens it, scanning the page. He immediately dials Hamilton.

Hamilton answers right away, sounding distracting. “Hey John, can I call you back?”

John is  _ seething _ . He doesn’t even know what to say. The silence stretches.

Hamilton focuses all of his attention once he realizes that Laurens is unresponsive. “John?”

John snaps out of his trance. “I need you to come over.”

“Is everything okay?” Hamilton asks, and now he’s sounding worried.

“No.”

And maybe John should have been less vague because now Hamilton’s clearly upset. “Are you hurt? Is it Frances? Is she okay? What happened? What do you need me to do?”

“We’re okay. I need someone to look after Frances for a little while. Please.” And now John sounds a little desperate. Hamilton must have so many important things to do, and it’s not fair of him to ask this but he needs to leave Frances with someone he can trust her with.

“Yeah, okay John. I’ll be there in 45 minutes. Is that okay?” Hamilton says softly.

“Thank you.”

-

“Henry is threatening a lawsuit,” John says as he tries to stop himself from punching the wall.

“Why? How? Also, shouldn’t you take a  _ lawyer _ ,” Alexander points to himself, “with you to the meeting?”

John frowns. “He made me sign a contract before college, and I breached the terms of agreement. I want to talk to him first and see if we can drop it altogether.”

Alexander brushes his hand. “You don’t have to talk to him you know. I could do it for you. Or we could counter sue.”

John pulls him into a hug and kisses him behind his ear. It never fails to make Hamilton shiver. “He’s my father, I have to do this. And anyway, I don’t have enough money to cover your hotshot legal fees, Alexander.”

He looks at John sly. “I can think of some other ways for you to make it up to me.”

John groans and pulls away. “I need to go. And Alexander, under no circumstances is Henry to know that Frances exists,” John says, steely.

Hamilton looks nervous. “But, John, what do I do? I don’t know how to take care of a child!”

“Just put on a movie and give her a snack, she should be fine until I get back.”

-

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Hamilton looks at a loss. He wasn’t lying when he said that he doesn’t know how to take care of children. “What do you eat? Do you have special kid food or what?”

Frances looks suspiciously nonchalant as she says, “Daddy usually let’s me eat as many cookies as I want.”

Alexander narrows his eyes. “That’s a terrible lie. Try again.”

Frances sighs but looks impressed. “Can I have some peanut butter and celery?”

“That, I can do.” Alex says walking to the kitchen. He’s so glad he doesn’t have to cook anything. Alexander Hamilton and cooking do not go hand in hand. He’s the kind of person who burns water.

Frances has already put the movie in the DVD player by the time Alex gets back. He sits next to her and hands over the snack.

“Alex?”

“Frances?”

“Do you love my dad?”

Hamilton hesitates. “Yes, I love him a lot.”

“Oh okay,” Frances says as she goes back to watching the movie. Hamilton feels like he somehow passed a test.

When she’s fallen asleep, Hamilton takes away the plate and puts a blanket on her. He uses the rest of his nervous energy to clean up the apartment and work on his laptop.

-

John storms past his father’s secretary who makes a feeble attempt at slowing him down, but there is almost nothing in this world that could stop John now.

Henry Laurens looks up from his paperwork with a rather bored expression. What a great way to start things off. “Hello John, good to see you.”

John is in no mood for small talk. He throws the letter at his father. “What the hell is this?”

“I do believe that is the legally binding contract that you signed quite a few years ago.” 

John thinks he could quite honestly punch the man right now. “Are you seriously suing me?”

And there’s the sharp glimmer in Henry’s eye. There are reasons why the Laurens family is loaded. His father’s cutthroat strategies have helped. “The document clearly states that I would pay for your education so long as you graduated and continued on to law school.”

“You have absolutely no idea what I’ve been through in the past five years.”

Henry looks absolutely unimpressed. “Clearly not, as you haven’t said a word to us in years.”

John hates how angry Henry can make him. “I have been working myself into the ground. I only make $30k a year and I have people who depend on me. I have neither the time nor the money nor the inclination for this lawsuit. Now tell me what I can do to make this void.”

“You can start by telling me why you dropped out of school.”

He could scream. This isn’t news to either of them. “You’re the one who pushed me away. Do you remember that ultimatum you made during the summer of 2010 -- after I told you I was gay? ‘You will either respect this family’s name or you will no longer be a part of it.’ So I left. I didn’t even realize this contract would still be in effect as you essentially disowned me. I’m no longer your son, am I? And I don’t need your family. I’ve got one of my own.”

John pauses and blanches. No no no, why did he let that slip?

Henry grins. “A family of your own, you say? I’m not happy that you dropped out of school, but if you’ve chosen a well-bred woman to have children with, I’m sure we can renegotiate. So who’s the lucky lady?”

John makes his face as neutral as possible. “Alexander Hamilton. I’ll have my lawyer call your lawyer. Also, I’m still pretty gay”

John pauses with his hand on the doorknob. “Congrats by the way. You’re a grandfather.”

John leaves and the only thing keeping his legs moving forward are the two people waiting for him at home.


	8. Chapter 8

John loves relaxing on the couch in his sweats. He’s got his daughter coloring on the ground, he’s got a good book in his hand, and he’s got a Hamilton next to him.

“Alex, are you my mom?” Frances asks out of the blue.

John chokes on his spit. As John’s eyes go wide, Alex raises his eyebrows. They haven’t exactly talked about this, despite Hamilton’s reassurances that he’s around to stay.

“Hey, can you keep working on this drawing for Daddy for a second?” John says sweetly before dragging Alexander to the window.

“She’s never asked that before! What do I say?” John panics quietly. Honestly, he should have thought about this before but he was hoping it would be a conversation for the future or, ideally, never.

“Well where  _ is _ her mother?” Hamilton whispers back.

John doesn’t like to think about Martha very often, if only because he gets so  _ angry _ . “She left. One night she just packed a suitcase and left. I can’t very well tell her that her mother abandoned her.” He gestures at his daughter helplessly.

Alexander looks horrified and furious and says, “Nope, there will be no more abandoned children. I know what that’s like."

John, feeling like he’s been slapped, looks apologetic and as though he wishes he could eat those words. He’s frozen as Hamilton crosses the room to crouch down in front of Frances. He puts his hand on her shoulder as he seriously says, “I am your mother now.”

“Alex --” John tries to interrupt with a hiss.

Hamilton stands up and puts his finger on John’s lips in the gesture for silence. “No John, I am her mother, shh.”

Laurens rolls his eyes and bites Hamilton’s finger before he crouches down in front of Frances. “Sweetie, not everyone’s family has a mom and a dad. Some only have one mom or dad and some have two of each. Some people have different kinds of parents altogether.”

Frances looks confused. “But I don’t want two dads. I want a mom and a dad. Why can’t Alex be my mom?”

“Because he’s a boy,” he says gently.

“So?”

Hamilton smirks. “Yeah, John, I think you have rather narrow definitions of gender and motherhood.”

Frances -- who loves when anyone agrees with her, especially when it’s Hamilton -- looks too smug as she says, “So see. A mom and a dad. Perfect. Alex, can you come to my mother’s day party at school?”

Hamilton grins. “Sure baby girl, when is it?”

“May 6th.”

Alex checks his calendar and it’s clear by his pained expression that he has a meeting.

Frances, ever observant, pouts a little and says, “You can’t come?”

Hamilton visibly melts and quite honestly says, “I will literally do anything to be there.”

Hamilton’s job and well-being over one small disappointment, even if it is his daughter, is unacceptable in John’s book. He’d appreciate if it didn’t have to be an either/or situation but John, knowing how earnestly Hamilton means what he said, tries to get him to reconsider. “Alex, man, it’s fine if –”

“It’s just this one incredibly important meeting with Washington. Look, I gotta go handle this so I can be there. I’ll be back later and we can talk?”

Hamilton rushes out the door and slams it. Both of the Laurens look at the door and even Frances seems impressed by how quickly he left. Almost immediately, the door opens again and Hamilton runs in to kiss them both before hurrying back out with a, “Love you, bye!”

-

Hours later after Frances has been fed, bathed, and put to bed, and Laurens has put himself to bed, he hears Hamilton let himself back in with a key. When John meets him in the entryway, he looks harried as he smiles anyway. It’s one of John’s favorite things about Hamilton, the fact that he’s so resilient.

John meets him at the door and gives him a soft kiss as he tries to take Hamilton’s briefcase and coax him to bed. Try being the operative word, because he resists.

“No, wait. I’ve got something for you.” Hamilton says as he puts the briefcase on the table. His fingers hover over the clasps, his mind calculating. John’s too tired for this.

“Well, what is it?” John asks.

Hamilton opens the briefcase and pulls out a stack of paperwork, which he hands over slowly.

John rereads the title of the paperwork multiple times before it sets in.

“You want to adopt her?”

Alex starts to fidget with his hands, one of his only tells of nervousness. It is quite possible that John is one of the only people on earth who know this about Alexander Hamilton. Nevertheless, Hamilton’s voice is steady as he says, “Yes. There are a lot of benefits that come with adoption and I’ve had the paperwork for a while, but -- when Frances asked us earlier whether I was her mother. Well, it made me think about my mother and how after she died, I became a foster kid. And I thought that maybe, just in case the unimaginable happened, well she could stay with someone who loved her. You know?”

John may be crying. He’s not sure. He’s also not sure how long he’s been standing there.

“Uhm, I mean, clearly, she’s your daughter and I get if you don’t want to do this, as it does have a lot of legal implications --” Alex says as he tries to pry the paperwork from John’s hand.

“No. Of course I do. It’s just that it’s a lot. Are you sure? I mean, you haven’t even moved in yet,” he points out.

“Well about that... you know how I’ve been staying here every day for the past three weeks...?” Hamilton responds sheepishly.

Laurens punches his arm. “Were planning on telling me you moved in? How did I not notice that you moved in? Where’s all your stuff?”

“My office and storage.”

“Wow.”

“Too much? We can slow down, if you want,” Hamilton says, clearly not wanting that.

“Huh. Well, no one can say Alexander Hamilton does things by halves,” John says as he takes Hamilton’s hand to maneuver him towards their bedroom.

“So is that a yes or a no on the slowing down?”

“It’s a ‘no, but I’m too sleepy and my boyfriend’s too exhausted to deal with this right now.’ We can talk more tomorrow.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is v smol. sorry.

For once, Hamilton gets home from work at a reasonable time, plopping down at the small dining room table with his tie loosened. John sets a plate of food in front of him like he's a goddamn housewife. 

After a few minutes of pleasantries and recapping their days, Hamilton casually asks, “Hey Frances, is it okay if I live here?”

Frances furrows her brow, confused, and Hamilton lets a small laugh escape at how much she looks like her daddy. “You mean you don’t already live here? Does that mean you get some of my chores?”

Hamilton acts mock offended, the overall effect ruined by the smile on his face. “Wow. I feel the love, baby girl.”

“I don’t want to feed the turtle,” Frances says as she points to the small new glass case in the corner of the room.

Alexander starts laughing so hard that he tears up. He turns to his boyfriend. “Did you buy the turtle for her or for yourself?”

John flushes. He’s a 26 year old man, he shouldn’t blush anymore damn it.

“Well, the apartment isn’t big enough for a dog or a cat and I thought that maybe the responsibility would be good for Frances and –- stop laughing, Alexander!”

Hamilton almost immediately starts cracking up again but stays steady with a shit-eating grin.

John pokes at his mashed potatoes. “Fine, I bought the turtle for myself but Frances thinks it’s cool.”

Frances makes a face. “No, I don’t.”

John pouts a little.

“Okay, fine. It’s a little cool,” Frances mumbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment? it lets me know how in demand this thing is.


	10. Chapter 10

After a long and emotionally exhausting shift, John is ready to get home, take a shower, and have a lie down on the sofa. He most definitely does not want to do anything that requires effort. So, when he gets home to find a mess, he is rightfully frustrated.

The apartment smells like a freshly doused bonfire and the kitchen looks like a bakery exploded. There is flour everywhere, a pile of burnt cupcakes in the sink, and is that a raw egg on the floor? The culprits in the kitchen don’t look any better. He finds his two favorite people sitting on the floor whispering. Both Hamilton and Frances are covered in flour. When they notice that John’s home they both look like they are about to receive a dressing down. Maybe if John were a little less exhausted, he would be angrier. As it is, the fatigue seeping into his bones numbs almost anything. He sighs.

“Do I want to know what happened?” Laurens asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off a migraine.

“We were trying to bake cupcakes for the party. We didn’t mean to make a mess,” Frances says quietly as she burrows into Hamilton’s side.

No matter how tired he is John cannot stand when his daughter is upset. He holds his arms out wordlessly and she gets up from her spot on the floor to rush into his arms. “We’re getting you cleaned up, little lady. And as for the kitchen --”

“I’ve got it,” Hamilton replies sheepishly.

John runs a bubble bath and relaxes a little as he helps Frances wash up, which takes longer than he'd really like since bathtime is synonymous with playtime in this house. He nudges her to clean up quickly, but when she makes a shampoo mohawk and giggles, it puts a small smile on John’s face. Frances, ever cognizant of peoples' moods, takes her two wet hands and puts them on John’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry for making a mess, Daddy,” she says seriously.

“It’s okay, baby. I know you didn’t mean to,” he replies and kisses her nose.

Frances insists on staying in the bath until the water starts getting cold. Once she’s toweled off, John wraps her up like a little babushka and carries her towards her bedroom. On the way, she holds out her hands and shouts from down the hall.

“LOOK ALEX, pruney fingers!” Frances says as she wiggles them. Hamilton smiles.

John puts her in her nightdress, hoping she won't make a mess of it during dinner, and brushes her hair. She grabs her favorite stuffed animal and starts sucking her thumb. It’s a bad habit, one that John shouldn’t condone, but she does it to comfort herself and he has such a hard time saying no to that. He needs to work on his resolve. Between Hamilton and himself, Frances gets away with too much. 

By the time John and Frances walk back into the living room, the kitchen looks cleaner than it has been in a while. The windows are open and somehow Hamilton found a candle to light, so the place no longer smells like a charcoal grill.

“Where'd you get the candle?”

“Angelica is letting us borrow it,” Hamilton says before kissing John for the first time since coming home. “You doing okay?”

John must look terrible for Hamilton to call him out.

“Just a tough day. It’s always a tough day when there are kids involved, you know?” John says with a sigh, looking over at his daughter watching the TV. He's so glad she's healthy and safe tonight. Hamilton hugs him and John lets his head fall down onto his boyfriend’s shoulders.

“Go take a shower. I'll cook,” Hamilton says.

Laurens gives him a disbelieving look, looking between Hamilton and where the burnt cupcakes used to be. He hesitantly asks, “Really?”

Hamilton scoffs. “Hell no, I'm ordering pizza.”

“PIZZA!” Frances screams from the couch.

“Shoo,” Hamilton says, kissing John before he pushes him towards the bathroom.

When the pizza is finished and the dishes are put away, John cuddles up with Hamilton on the sofa.

“What do I do about the lawsuit?” he says softly.

“You should let your lawyer boyfriend handle it,” Hamilton replies, running his fingers through John’s curly hair.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! It's been two months, I know. I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Please enjoy :)

Hamilton starts unloosening his tie as soon as he gets in the door. He smiles at John and says victoriously, “He’s dropping the lawsuit.”

John looks genuinely surprised, which is frankly a little offensive. He’s a fantastic lawyer, thank you very much. “How?”

Hamilton pulls off his tie and throws it on the floor, earning a reproachful look from John. Frances, however, is very pleased and puts the tie on like a headband. Alexander continues, “Did you know Henry is planning on running for governor?”

“I did not.”

“Ah yes. Henry Laurens is planning to run for governor. And so I was sitting in his office, running through my speech in my head. I was going to throw out words like ‘duress’ and ‘emotional manipulation’. But instead of that, I told him …”

-

_Earlier that day..._

Alexander rushes down the hall to the conference room in Henry Laurens’ office building. As he puts his hand on the door handle, he finds it trembling. He probably shouldn’t have had that last espresso shot. Oh well. After a calming breath, he swoops into the office and greets the men in the room.

“Hello, Mr. Laurens,” Hamilton says with a polite smile, but turns with a real grin as he says, “and Mr. Burr, sir!”

Burr extends his arm for a handshake as Hamilton sits down at the table.

“Alexander, it’s good to see you,” Burr says honestly, if not tiredly. “I’ll get to the point. I’m afraid I don’t know what John can do but settle. This document is legally sound.”

“Ah,” Hamilton says, hesitating before turning to Henry, “Sir, is it true that you’re planning to run for governor?”

Henry Laurens blanches a bit. That’s a yes then.

Hamilton smiles the smile he uses when he wants to charm someone. He doesn’t particularly care about charming Mr. Laurens, but being smug won’t help anybody. “I know you’re a man of family values. As a matter of fact, I’d hate for the press to find out, anonymously of course, that you’re suing your gay son, who is a dedicated healthcare provider, and taking away money from your grandchild. I don’t think the voters would like to hear that at all.”

Henry Laurens’ face contorts into an ugly expression of anger. He points his finger at Alexander. Hamilton hates when people do that. Henry starts with, “Now look here --”

Until Hamilton interrupts him. He refuses to budge, physically or ideologically, and infuses as much strength into his words as possible. “No. You will be dropping this ludicrous lawsuit and maybe if you get your head out of your ass --”

“Alexander!” Burr says, appalled, just as he has been every time that he has admonished Hamilton.

He chooses not to heed the warning and continues, “-- then you can have an actual relationship with your son and granddaughter.”

Henry tries to intimidate him, but Hamilton simply raises an eyebrow. Mr. Laurens must see something in his expression because he nods at Burr. “Mr. Burr, I expect the appropriate paperwork on my desk by the end of the week. And Mr. Hamilton?”

“Yes sir?”

Henry pulls an envelope out from one of the inner pockets of his suit. “Please give this to my son.”

Hamilton hesitates before taking the envelope and giving the old man a nod.

Burr, ever the mediator, smoothly says, “Alexander. Let me walk you out.” At the door, he hisses, “Do you always have to be so divisive?”

Hamilton narrows his eyes. “When it comes time to defending my family, yes.”

-

Hamilton lets out a happy sigh. “And so this whole mess should be resolved by the end of next week. Out of curiosity, how much money was in your trust fund?” Hamilton asks.

“$1.2 million,” John replies.

Alexander nearly screams. “What the shit?!”

“Papa!” Frances chides. John immediately lights up. That’s new.

“I know, I know, sorry baby. I’ll put money in the jar tomorrow, I forgot to go to the bank on the way home.” He freezes suddenly, letting himself process her words. He kneels down to where she’s playing on the floor, his tie still wrapped around her head. “Wait, what? What did you just call me, Francie?”

She shrugs one of her small shoulders, just like John. “Papa.”

Hamilton looks back at John, a little lost. He gives Alexander the biggest grin in return. He knows, legally and logically, he has adopted her and thus he is one of her guardians, but it’s never felt this real before now. It hits him that this is his family.

What does he know about family? He’s a foster kid who jumped from place to place. Before he runs down that mental pathway, he chides himself. This is what he wanted. Why is it suddenly so disquieting? He notices John furrow his brow, but instead of addressing that, he scoops Frances up into a hug. She loves hugs, always responding with gusto. He lets the smell of her hair soothe his worries. He can do this. He’s been doing this for a while. He ruminates about this revelation through dinner and until bed, letting himself rest once John wraps his arms around him.

In fact, he’s so distracted that he forgets about the envelope in his briefcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love comments. They inspire me and make it less likely that it will take 2 months for another update. Anyway, drop me a line. I'd love to hear from you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The very end of this chapter includes content that may be disturbing for some people. It is almost completely a real event that happened in AHam's life (there were no modern hospitals in 18th century America). Tags have been updated accordingly.
> 
> P.S. You can skip this chapter if angst isn't your thing.

Hamilton promised John that he’d go to bed hours ago. He’s not even sure what time it is, to be completely honest. He’s at the point in the night where the words are starting to blur, and that’s usually when he decides that it’s time to call it quits. He’s almost done packing up when he hears a small, wet, racking cough. It makes him freeze. 

As soon as his mind processes that it’s Frances, and that she’s sick, Alexander jumps up from his desk chair. He feels his heart thudding in his throat as he walks the short distance to her room. He sits on the edge of her bed and runs his hands over her hair, smoothing it down.

“Hey sweetness. What’s wrong?” Alexander says with a grimace.

“Papa, it hurts,” Frances sobs with tear-stained cheeks.

He’s not emotionally prepared to deal with this. He’s known too much sickness, and it never gets easier. But Frances is his daughter, and he’s painfully aware of that feeling. He's almost grateful that he wasn't lucid when his mother passed away. He doesn’t know what to do. She’s looking at him like he should know, but he doesn’t.

“I know, I know. I’ll be right back, okay baby?” he kisses the side of her head, damp with cold sweat before running to the master bedroom. He doesn’t even turn on the lights, just starts shaking John’s shoulders.

“John, John, John,” Alex breathes in a litany.

“Wha’sit?” John mumbles while rubbing his eyes.

“I don’t know what to do!” Alexander says in a whisper-shout, his breathing is heavy. He’s probably been having a panic attack since he heard Frances coughing.

John’s hands cradle Hamilton’s face, “Hey, hey, man, what’s wrong?”

“Frances,” Alexander says, in a panic, and he can’t find the words. Why can’t he find the words? He’s usually so good at that. 

John looks at him, expectantly waiting for an explanation. When he’s not presented with one, John rushes to his daughter’s room.

John visibly slumps in relief. He turns towards Alexander. “You gave me a fucking heart attack, Alex! What were you thinking?”

“She’s sick,” he says softly, gesturing helplessly. Understanding dawns on John’s face. He kisses Hamilton softly before turning his attention to his daughter.

John smiles and whispers at Frances, “Hey baby, how are you feeling?” 

Frances pouts. “Hurts.”

He wipes the tears off her face as he calmly asks, “Yeah? Where does it hurt?”

Frances points at her throat and her chest. He rubs her chest as she coughs. John doesn’t like the sound of it but they can wait to see her pediatrician in the morning.

“I’m gonna get some baby Tylenol, okay?”

“Yeah, okay Daddy, but Papa stays here,” Frances says, holding her stuffed animal tighter.

“Sure thing, babydoll,” John says. He puts his hand on Alexander’s shoulder as he leaves the room and says with a smirk, “That okay with you, Papa?”

Alexander tries to smile. Frances softly says, “Papa, I want cuddles.”

“Ok,” he says simply, enveloping her in a hug. 

He holds her until she falls asleep. In their bedroom, John asks gently, “Are you okay, Alex?”

Hamilton shakes his head.

John looks so worried as he pats the side of the bed. Once Alexander gets in John says, “It’ll be okay. She’ll be fine. I’m taking her to the pediatrician in the morning.” He kisses the back of Hamilton’s neck and holds him tight.

Hamilton’s breathing evens out and John’s on the edge of sleep when Alexander starts to whisper.

“The summer before college, I stayed with this couple. They were the closest thing I had to a family at the time. Annie and Elias Boudinot. They all but adopted me.” 

John places his hand on Hamilton’s shoulder. Alexander sighs, “The Boudinots had a toddler. Her name was Anna Maria. One day they took her to the hospital. The doctors said there was nothing they could do. I sat by her bedside, until --” Alexander cuts himself off.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, I wrote an elegy for her. And I was so scared that I would have to do that for Frances. How could anyone bear that?”

Asked point blank, Hamilton would never tell you why he wrote that elegy. He’s not even sure he could. It seemed like the right thing to do. He didn't do it for the praise, though he did get a lot for it. He considers what would happen if it had been Frances instead of Anna Maria. He knows that he’d end up staring at a blank page. There are no words for that. It’s unimaginable.

As he falls asleep, Alex misses the heartbroken look on John’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anna Maria Boudinot was two years old when she died. Alexander spent all of his time with the child until she passed away. He wrote an elegy from a mother's POV which he would be praised for years to come.
> 
> Please comment?


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